This book about two aging senior detectives attached to the Peculiar Crimes Unit is a flat-out delightful read. The characterizations are deliciously deft, as are descriptions of London landmarks where John May and Arthur Bryant are on the prowl to solve, well, peculiar crimes. In this outing, the two crusty detectives are on the trail of a serial killer who murders women of a particular age in London pubs by an unknown, but very successful, method. One moment the victims are alive; a moment later, they are dead. The investigation crisscrosses with academia, politics, and infighting within the unit itself. This excellent tale makes a reader truly care about these characters, their touching foibles, and their concerns over approaching the end of their police careers. The Victoria Vanishes is a delightfully nuanced mix of R.D. Wingfield and Agatha Christie, with a touch a nod to Martha Grimes--only better.
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